Poor Potter
by The Werewolf Mage
Summary: Poor James, always getting blamed for everything and winding up in detention when he didn't do anything.  Chapter fic, each chapter is like a oneshot.
1. Gen, James, and Glasses

Title: Poor Potter

Summary: Poor James, always getting blamed for everything and winding up in detention when he didn't do anything. Chapter fic, each chapter is like a one-shot.

Dedication: An-Jelly-Ca who helped me with some planning of this.

**Note: It's going to have my OCs in it, too. Don't like it, don't read. As I said in the summary, each chapter will be kind of a one-shot. It's a collection I guess. Enjoy!**

Chapter 1: Gen, James, and Glasses

The Seventh Year class streamed out of Transfiguration, each one looking a bit relieved. Hanging around at the back of the group were a few Gryffindors. Namely James Potter, Sirius Black, Gwendolyn Moore, and Lily Evans.

"Is it just me, or is McGonagall really cracking down on us?" James asked.

"It's our N. E.W.T. year, of course she's going to be." Lily scoffed. She still had not come to terms to how she felt about James Potter. To the other girl, she added, "Gwen, I'm going to go to the library, but I'll meet you at dinner. Save me a spot?"

"Sure." Gen nodded.

James shook his head as Lily raced off to the library. "Are books more appealing than I am?" he joked.

Gen rolled her eyes. Sirius looked as though he were considering his answer carefully. But instead, he said, "I don't think McGonagall has gotten even more strict. But then she's bad to begin with."

Gen nodded. "And she's always focusing in on us. Is it because she doesn't like us and our black hair?" she asked. Without thinking, she reached over and pulled off James's glasses and perched them on the end of her nose.

"Now class," she began in a stern imitation of McGonagall, "you must write down everything that I say. If you get one word wrong, I will give you a T. Now copy my long, drawn out explanation of things!"

James and Sirius were snickering, but a couple passing First Years stared at her like she was mad.

"And now that I have not even given you time to copy it all, pull out your wands! We're going to turn a turtle into a desk. And we're going to turn that desk into a fully functioning cuckoo clock!" Gen began making random movements into the air with her finger.

"And we'll do it all using insanely complicated wand movements!"

By then, James was leaning on the wall, shaking with laughter as Sirius wiped a tear of laughter from his eye.

"And ready class?" Gen asked. She raised her finger, nearly knocking the glasses off her nose. "The incantation is -- "

"JAMES POTTER!"

James, Gen, and Sirius winced, with James wincing hardest. They knew they were all done for as they watched McGonagall approach them.

"What on earth do you think it is you're doing?"

James looked confused. McGonagall was addressing him, but he had not done anything. Well nothing but laugh at Gen, who had innocently taken his glasses off and passed them back to him behind her back.

"I, ah..." James looked around at Gen and Sirius for something to say. But neither could answer him.

"Detention. Tonight. Both you and Miss Moore. And twenty points from Gryffindor."

James watched McGonagall leave. He was completely and utterly confused, as he had done nothing and was being rewarded with a detention.

Why wasn't Sirius? But when James turned his attention to Sirius, he was trying to stifle his laughter. 

"Sorry, mate," Sirius choked, "but she's got it out for you, I think."

James just groaned. He had to agree with that.

But that night, as he served detention with Gen, he felt like changing his mind. She had just given them lines. It was a rarity of hers, he was sure.

But that might have been due to the fact that a Quidditch match was coming up in a couple days.

"I'm sorry James, I didn't mean -- "

"It's fine, Gwen." James muttered. His hand was cramping slightly, but he wasn't about to blame her. "You didn't know McGonagall would pop up. And besides, you were being silly. I just don't understand why I'm here, too."

"Maybe because I was wearing your glasses?" Gen asked sheepishly as she dipped her quill into the ink pot. "I know you shouldn't be here," she added, "but I'm kind of glad to not be here by myself. But Sirius should be in here with us."

James started to laugh. "I never thought I would hear you say that."

"Oh no, I didn't mean it in that manner, I was just saying that if you got in trouble for nothing, he should too."

James nodded. "That he should. But we'll find something to do about him." he said with a smirk. "Trust me on that."

The two finished the rest of their lines in silence, just in case McGonagall heard them. James was going to try to be on his best behavior, just to make sure he received no more random detentions.

But that might be harder to do than he thought.


	2. Foam

Poor Potter

Chapter 2: Foam

James was heading to the Prefect's bathroom after what he deemed "The Muddiest Quidditch Practice of the Century". He was caked head to foot in mud and his broom and robes looked like they would never become clean.

Just as he reached the Prefect's bathroom, he heard what sounded like someone in there. He groaned and pounded on the door. "Hurry it up!" He felt the mud would probably be dry by the time he reached the Gryffindor Common Room. He was having trouble moving as it was.

"Hey Prongs."

James did a double take. No, his brain was not mud addled. Sirius had opened the door and was grinning widely at him.

"How... do I even want to know how you got the password for the bathroom?"

"It wasn't that hard. Honestly, 'lemon scented'? Come on, a first year could come up with a better password."

James cocked his head in confusion and sighed. "Whatever it is you're doing in there, can you hurry it up so I can get clean?"

"Ah, I wouldn't..." Sirius said. He jumped into the hall and pulled the door shut behind him.

"What did you do?" James demanded. Normally he wasn't easy to get irritated by Sirius's actions. But all he wanted was a bath. And his best mate was keeping him from one.

"Really, you don't want in."

"Oh I think I do."

It was then James noticed that his feet were wet. He glanced down and groaned. Foam, bubbles, and water were seeping out from under the door.

"No." James whispered. "Sirius, you did not just ruin my chance at a bath!"

"Maybe..." Sirius said.

At that moment, the door behind Sirius burst open and the two boys were sent flying. Soap, foam, bubbles, and water rushed down the hall. And James and Sirius were buried under a pile of thick foam.

James, coughing, spluttering, and furious scrambled to get to his feet. "At least I'm clean." he muttered, digging under the bubbles to try to find his broom.

Just as his hands closed around it, he heard someone say "Aha! Flooding the halls! And to think, I thought it was that ghost again."

James groaned. "Filch, I didn't -- "

"Save your breath, boy. You're the only one here."

James glanced around. Sirius was probably still trying to get out of his bubbly mess. But the sight of a drenched Mrs. Norris definitely made up for him getting in trouble.

"You're going to clean up this mess and fix the door. And you're doing it by hand!"

"Like I have my wand with me." James grumbled. He waited until Filch returned with an old Muggle push broom and quietly swept the water and mess out of the hall and back into the deep tub in the Prefect's bathroom.

And he made sure he "did not see" Mrs. Norris as he pushed her into the tub as well.

Sirius was nowhere to be found in the bubbles. James figured he might have got knocked further down the hall and took off once Filch showed up.

But soon the hall was clear (and clean) and the door was returned back on its hinges. James said nothing to Filch as he raced all the way to Gryffindor Tower and into the dorm he shared with Remus, Sirius, and Peter.

The one thing that made him feel better, and snicker more than he did at the sight of Filch's cat, was the fact that Sirius was sitting on the foot of his bed, hiccuping bubbles.


	3. Food Fight!

Poor Potter

Chapter 3: Food Fight!

James had nipped into the Great Hall for a quick lunch on Sunday. He had to buckle down, as he had a lot of homework to do. But he couldn't just forget food now could he?

He wedged himself between Lily Evans and Remus and began to eat at as high a speed as he could without choking.

"That's disgusting." Lily said, wrinkling her nose.

"That's food," James said, "and I'm hungry. But I've got work to do as well."

"Don't come to me when you're choking, then." she said.

James said something, but with his mouth full, it was completely impossible to tell what it was he was trying to say. He did see Remus roll his eyes at him though. And Lily get to her feet and move down the table with the other Gryffindor girls.

"You're going to scare her off." Remus muttered.

"He won't," Sirius said, taking the seat Lily had just left, "but he'll wind up grossing her, and me, out if he doesn't stop eating at top speed."

James swallowed a mouthful of sprouts and reached over Sirius for some chicken. "Can't stop, got work to do. A lot of work. A mountain of essays!"

As he reached over to grab some chicken, he accidentally put his elbow on a spoon, which sent a large bit of steak and kidney pie on a nearby fourth year.

"Hey!" she shouted, shaking bit of food from her face. "Potter!" she shouted, grabbing a handful of the pie and tossing it towards James, who moved out of the way, letting the food smash all over Remus.

Remus shook his head, somewhat dazed. As he managed to clear the mess off his face, someone else had to yell "FOOD FIGHT!"

Chicken, sprouts, potatoes, pie, goblets of pumpkin juice, and everything else that was on the tables went flying, most of which seemed to be aimed towards James Potter.

Remus dived for cover under the table. Sirius had pulled out his wand and he was hexing any bit of food that came his way, sending it flying towards the Slytherin table. He managed to stay clean, while several Slytherins were covered in food.

The Gryffindor girls were nowhere to be seen. James, shaking his pumpkin juice soaked hair out of his eyes, figured they had raced out of the hall looking for cover. As he could not see Peter either, he figured that was where he had gone as well.

James was not even throwing food at anyone. He was eying the staff, who did not seemed to be too phased by the food flying around them. That was, until a sprout bomb, a sprout someone magically filled with pumpkin juice and ketchup, went flying that way.

James realized with a sinking sense of dread that it was going to hit McGonagall just before it did hit her.

No one else seemed to have realized that the food had hit the Head of Gryffindor house. She got to her feet, pulled out her wand, and with a bang, the flying food and students stopped where it was. Students stopped in mid-throw, food stopped in midair. Timidly, Remus peered out from under the table as McGonagall bore down on them.

"Potter, Black," she began in a soft, yet somehow menacing voice that carried throughout the soundless hall, "I am sure the two of you had something to do with this. While everyone else leaves, you are to clean up the Great Hall with Mr. Filch. Using no magic."

James groaned to himself. Sure he had accidentally started this, but he had not thrown any food. But the good news is that he would have Sirius with him this time around.

As everyone else filed out of the hall to get cleaned up, James and Sirius stayed behind.

"James, you know, you've got a bit of... it looks like a tart, right there."

"Shut it." James grumbled as he and Sirius set off to pick up the dishes first. They would them to the House Elves then return with some cleaning supplies to clear the hall while Filch sat at the staff table, wheezing orders at them.

"Don't you think it would be easier to do all this if you weren't buried under pounds of food?" Sirius asked casually as he picked up a few plates.

"Don't you think it would be a bit easier if you were?" James asked. He grabbed a bowl full of assorted foods and dumped it over Sirius's head. Sirius coughed, spluttered, and shook his hair out of his eyes.

"You cheated! I wasn't looking!"

They started throwing food at each other, laughing while they were at it, and completely ignoring Filch, who was on his feet, wheezing and shouting at them, stopping only when a heaping plate of mixed food that originally looked like it had been a steak and kidney pie smacked him in the face.

Laughing, James and Sirius decided that they had better settle down and clean up the Great Hall before they were given a worse punishment.


	4. YOU'RE WRITING LINES!

Poor Potter

**Note: No, I have not given up on fanfiction. I just hate writing things when the alerts aren't working. Many things go unread.**

**But since the alerts don't look like they're ever coming back, I may as well start updating again.**

Chapter 4: YOU'RE WRITING LINES!

James had picked a place close to Lily in the library. She was studying, hidden behind a stack of books. James was trying to perfect his artistic "talent" and was currently doodling what he'd like to call his masterpiece.

Only it was not clear what that masterpiece was. It seemed to have four legs, but whatever it was James was not fully focusing on.

His attention was, of course, on Lily. Every once and a while, he could see a bit of red hair as she moved her head to look for a book.

Finally, James put the parchment in his bag and headed over to Lily, where he promptly shoved the books off the table and perched himself in their place.

Lily looked up at him, her green eyes flashing. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed. "We have an exam in the morning and N.E.W.T.S this year! I need to study!"

"Well there are more things to study than books, you know."

Lily narrowed her eyes. She was tempted to pick up her books and leave the library, but then another thought struck her.

"Potter, as Head Girl, I can take points. And give detentions. And I should take twenty points from you for disrupting me. And give you a detention for disrupting others."

James seemed to be listening very intently.

This put Lily at a loss. But then she said, "You're doing lines tonight, Potter! Grab your quill and parchment. You're going to need them."

"And what will I be writing?" James asked sweetly.

"'I will not disrupt others while they're studying.' And why are you grinning like that?" she asked, feeling wary.

"As Head Boy, I can put YOU in detention. So you're writing lines, too."

Lily stared at him. "But that's not – I didn't do anything!"

Grinning at her flustered look, James added, "Oh, yes. Now get your things together. You'll be writing 'I really need to lighten up.' for however long you had planned to make me write my lines."

Lily stared at him, open-mouthed. "Are you serious?" she demanded. "This is completely and utterly unfair! I have an exam to study for!"

"Would you rather me take points from you?" James asked with a smile.

Huffing, Lily pulled her parchment closer to her and began to write. She stopped after the second time she copied her lines and glared at him. "Well?" she asked.

"I'm going, I'm going."

Getting out his quill and parchment, James settled down at the table with her. Every once and a while, she'd glare at him over her quill.

Every time he'd catch her, he'd smile at her.

He was enjoying himself, even though he had to write lines. Not only was he sitting at a table with Lily, she was livid with him for making her write lines as well.

'She shouldn't have abused her powers then.' he thought. 'I was, after all, just trying to have some fun with her.'

After an hour, the two rolled up their parchments and switched. James skimmed Lily's and nodded. "Yep, that's lines alright. Thank you Evans."

"Get out of here!" Lily hissed.

Laughing, James got up, grabbing his things, stuffed her parchment in the pocket of his robes, and left the library. 'Best. Detention. Ever.' he thought. 'Even though it wasn't really a detention.'


	5. But  the plants!

Poor Potter

Chapter 5: But – the plants!

James settled down in Herbology, feeling a bit lucky. He had not been blamed for something, and not put in detention, for a couple of weeks.

But of course, the calm was about to be broken.

James was fussing with a squirmy violently pink flower. At first it looked harmless, but as soon as you came near it, it tried to throttle you. And anyone else within reach. Professor Sprout had also warned them not to make the flower too mad. It had been known to emit a pink gas, which could knock anyone within the room out for a few hours at least.

"Nice idea, these plants." James said to no one in particular. "Why would anyone want them? Much less PRUNE them!"

For that was their task that morning. Prune the pink flowers.

And they actually hurt! He was hit 'round the head quite a few times. The most the plant had done to itself was lose a few petals but James's head was swimming.

"Stupid thing." he muttered, rubbing his head.

As James fussed with the plant, he did not notice the creeping tentacles of another plant. It crept along the floor, past Peter, and slid along the ground until it reached James's shears. If plants could chuckle, this one would as it flung them, smashing the greenhouse window.

In the chaos the plant had caused, it also smashed several pots until people started to calm. Then, the tentacle slid back to its own pot, where it remained, looking harmless.

"James Potter, what have you done?" Professor Sprout demanded. James blinked and cocked his head.

He knew his excuse was going to sound feeble, but he had to try it.

"Professor, the plant -- " James looked over his shoulder and groaned. The plant that caused the damage was sitting around harmlessly. "But – the plant – aaawww, fine. What time do you want me for detention, Professor?"

"Seven this evening."

James nodded and made sure he sheared his pink flower rather low in his anger.

"Did that plant really do that?" Sirius asked, catching up with James after the lesson was over.

James nodded. "The one that grabbed Peter in our fourth year. That evil little thing. I can't believe I've been blamed for Gwen's doing, for your doing, an accident, Evans making me write lines for no reason, and now a bloody plant!"

Grinning, Sirius patted James on the back. "There, there mate. Things are bound to look up!"

James mumbled something that Sirius could not understand. But he did not really want to ask anyway.

At seven that evening, after a rushed dinner, James headed back to the greenhouse, wondering vaguely what Professor Sprout would set him about doing.

A few minutes later he was wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I have to re-pot these... little things here... and throw out the ones that are rotting?" James asked, repeating the Herbology professor's instructions.

"No need for gloves."

James stared at the innocent looking little sprouts. He hoped none of them were rotting.

But it became clear that the first years who were taking care of the sproutlings had over-watered them. Several in the first tray alone had root-rot.

The pile of wet, smelly plants grew as the minutes passed. James was waiting and hoping with baited breath that Sprout would let him go soon. The smell was driving him nuts!

Finally, she seemed pleased with his work. He raced out of the greenhouse on the way back to the castle, he heard a smashing sound.

"Can't blame me for that one!" he said in a sing-song voice as he bounded up the stairs to wash his hands until they reeked no more.


	6. PEEVES!

Poor Potter

Chapter 6: PEEVES!

It was common knowledge that if you traveled alone through the halls of Hogwarts, Peeves was most likely to find you. But seeing as how James was just coming back from a detention, he could not have anyone with him.

Therefore he was trying to get back to Gryffindor Tower as fast as he possibly could.

Unfortunately, James ran right into Peeves. Well not right into him. That would have been a bit hard to do as Peeves was floating near the ceiling.

'As Head Boy,' James thought, watching Peeves curiously as he scribbled naughty things on the wall outside the girls' bathroom, 'I should try to stop him. As a sane person, I should really run away before he sees me.'

But of course Peeves did see him.

"Why it's Potty!" Peeves cackled. "Coming from a detention? Doing naught misdeeds in the school?"

"Pot. Kettle. Black." James said, making to walk by the poltergeist, but Peeves had other plans.

Plans which included a bucket of toilet water he had taken from the girls' bathroom with the plans of throwing it on Mrs. Norris. Of course, throwing it on James worked nearly as well.

A moment later, James, dripping wet, glared at Peeves. 

"Go on," he began, "continue your misdeeds, but leave me out of this. I've had one detention tonight already."

But Peeves seemed to have other ideas. As James walked away, shaking his wet hair out of his face and wondering if he had the time to squeeze in a shower before crawling into bed, Peeves shouted, "STUDENT OUT OF BED! STUDENT OUT OF BED AND GRAFITING THE SCHOOL!"

James scowled and ran off, hearing Peeves cackling behind him. James ducked into an empty classroom and peered through a crack in the door.

As Peeves waited for Filch or whoever to show up, he continue to draw crudely and write swears and slurs on the walls.

Filch must have shown up, for the ink pot hit the floor with a smash and Peeves was gone.

Ducking under the teacher's desk, James watched as Filch's annoying cat stuck her head into the classroom and meowed.

"In here?" Filch asked, shuffling into the room.

Mrs. Norris meowed and James silently cursed. If he used a Silencing Charm, Filch would definitely be aware that someone was in there. And frankly he had nowhere to hide.

Not to mention his leg was falling asleep.

Filch seemed displeased. Passing right by the desk, James heard him mutter something about Peeves.

'Just keep thinking he did it, Filch. Just keep thinking he did it and blamed it on a student and go away.' James repeated silently.

Either James was lucky or that was what Filch was thinking. A long minute later, he shuffled out of the room, determined to catch Peeves.

Mrs. Norris stayed in there a moment or two later. With one last meow, she hurried out of the room and after Filch.

James let out a long exhale, counted silently for a minute, then hurried out of the room, nursing his sleeping leg while he went.

He could not believe his luck! He had actually gotten away with something. Sort of. If Filch had caught him, he would have thrown him into detention faster than James could say "Quidditch."

Basking in the happiness that had formed, James did not hear McGonagall until her signature cry of "JAMES POTTER!" reached his ears.

Guiltily, he turned to face her. "Professor?" he asked.

"What are you doing out after hours?"

James decided honesty was his best option here. "I was coming back from a detention with Professor Sprout. You can ask her. Peeves sort of held me up."

McGonagall studied him for a moment, then said, "To bed, Potter. And remember, if I catch you out again after hours, it will be a detention."

James nodded, walking until he was out of her sight then running the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower. Maybe his luck was changing.


	7. New Uses For Brooms

Poor Potter

Chapter 7: New Uses For Brooms

James, Gen and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team were enjoying their practice. Without getting much practicing going on.

Instead, they were taking turns dive-bombing each other, throwing the Quaffle at each other, not to each other, and just enjoying the sunlight and their time outside.

"What are the firsties doing out here?" James asked, catching sight of what looked to be a dozen First Years in the stands, laughing and hooting at the team.

Gen giggled. "Aw, James has a fan club." He glared at her, which caused her to giggle harder. "It's cute!" she said.

"It is not cute! They're distracting."

"Well do something about it then, so we can actually get some practice done."

James seemed to ponder this suggestion. And he liked this suggestion, very much. He grinned at Gen as she groaned.

"Forget I said – James!"

James had flown over to the first years and seemed to be engaging them in conversation. She groaned and clapped her head to her forehead.

"Don't do it!" she called.

But James was going to do it. And she and the rest of the team were about to find out what "it" was. Grinning, James seized the nearest firstie by the scruff of his robes and took off towards the castle.

The rest of the team began to laugh, and one of the Beaters, a large sixth year, followed James's lead, grabbing two First Years of his own and soaring off to the castle, where James had spotted an open window.

Which happened to be Professor McGonagall's study.

"Hey, Professor! I think you lost something!"

McGonagall, having not hear or noticed James and the Beater, and their catch, turned around to face them.

"Yeah, we found them just wandering around the Quidditch Pitch. Figured that it would be best to return then to you, since you are our Head of House."

McGonagall spluttered in shock and anger as she watched James and the Beater dump the frightened fristies on the floor of her study and soar off, no doubt looking for more firsties.

But they seemed to have taken off.

"What did you do to them?" Gen hissed as James and the Beater returned to the Pitch. She tossed the Quaffle at him, which he caught.

"We just... gave them back to McGonagall. Really, she should learn to keep an eye on them!"

"James! She's not going to be happy with you!"

"She didn't look too happy with us, yeah." he said, innocently tossing the Quaffle from one hand to the other. "But it got rid of them, didn't it?"

Gen glanced towards the ground and shook her head. "Looks like you've got a bigger problem, James. And I'm not helping you here, sorry."

Professor McGonagall had managed to get to the Pitch so fast it was as though she had Apparated there. And she did not look pleased. James continued to grin as he flew down to receive his punishment.

Which he told Gen about a few minutes later in the changing rooms.

"Well, Marcus and I get the fun of polishing trophies tonight. Granted," he added with a wink, "I actually did something to deserve this detention. And I think we got off a bit lighter than I would have thought."

"We have a match next week. McGonagall wouldn't kill you with the chance of having the Quidditch Cup in her study. If we didn't have that match, I think she might've given in and let Filch whip you raw."

James rolled his eyes. "I don't think McGonagall is that strict."

"This is Minerva McGonagall we're talking about, James." Gen reminded him as she shouldered her broom. "Even if Dumbledore wouldn't allow it, I'm sure she'd find some way to get it done."

"Right, right." James sighed. "But at least I earned this one!"


End file.
